


Setting Sail, Coming Home

by JaziandCo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Asexual Character, F/F, F/M, M/M, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, ace aro inquisitor, bioware give me DA4 already I beg you, bit of a fix-it... au... thing, more tags added as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14276670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaziandCo/pseuds/JaziandCo
Summary: Varric leaned back in his chair. "An elf, a qunari, and a human fall out of a rift. Sounds almost like the start to a bad joke. Tell you what, Freckles: you let me know how this story ends, and if we make it out of here alive, it’s my treat for a week back at the Hanged Man.""You’ve got yourself a deal."---What if- three people were there when Corypheus attacked? What if- the familiar faces of the past were far more present? What if- there was another solution to the Dread Wolf Problem? A saga to try and answer these questions while we wait for Bioware to decide whether they're giving us another game.





	1. The Conclave

Ailan sighed. Keeper Iossa had assigned him this mission to the  _ shem _ council because this war between the mages and the templars was beginning to affect the clans scattered across the continent, no thanks to stereotypes spread by their  _ shem  _ religion. But that didn’t mean the bulk of these meetings weren’t just nonsensical religious bickering without anything of value being discussed or decided.

 

He was sharply reminded why he was so grateful that his sister Nehn had developed magic when the twins came of age. She had been chosen as First as a result, and not him, which meant she had to deal with learning the politics and diplomacy that comes with the title. Which, of course, they were both absolutely fine with, considering Nehn was a born leader and Ailan was a born rebel.

 

Listening to these  _ shems _ argue back and forth about their Maker or his precious Andraste and their plan for those with magic was beginning to grate on his nerves. Even now, as he sat outside the window to one of the many meeting halls, hidden by the trees and his roguish tricks, he was subjected to endless complaints and entreaties addressed directly to a woman the  _ shems _ called Divine. As her visitors and diplomats and nobles came and went, he found his patience wearing thin.

 

The noble currently visiting with the Divine seemed… admittedly, not terrible… for a  _ shem.  _ He had introduced himself as the First Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle, making Ailan think at first perhaps he was just another spoiled noble unhappy the rebel mages had made a mess of his cushy life. Enough of these Enchanters certainly seemed to hold that opinion. That is, until he’d began discussing relief efforts for those caught between both sides in a war they didn’t ask for, going so far as to volunteer his efforts in healing, caring for, and protecting refugees until they reached safety. Wherever that was.

 

The elf made himself comfortable in his perch, knowing it would be another long day of getting absolutely no important information to relay back to his clan.

 

Or would it?

 

*

 

First Enchanter Alexander Trevelyan, or “Alec” to his fairly small circle of friends, took a polite sip of his tea from where he sat across from the Divine. As the most experienced mage in the Ostwick Circle, he wasn’t necessarily against the bulk of the rebel mages’ demands… nor did the hard truth of the Templar Order completely escape him. In travelling to the Conclave in an effort to perhaps put a stop to this war by suggesting compromise, Alec had seen plenty of the destruction sweeping Thedas. Even his caravan, clearly marked as neutral with both mages and templars travelling within, had been attacked en route more than once.

 

They had been delayed further due to the insistence of both him and a templar of the Starkhaven Circle, before it was burned, that they offer what healing and protection they could to the refugees left behind by the fighting. Initially slated to be among the first to arrive, they had become one of the last, though luckily Divine Justinia had been understanding of their desire to help and had agreed to meet with them individually today.

 

Knowing she had heard every side point fingers at each other for the conflict, Alec had instead suggested she dispatch a relief effort while deliberating on her final stance of this huge mess, going so far as to offer whatever services he could render in the field. Attackers, bandits, and predators (as well as whatever demons and abominations the rebel mages had conjured) could frequently be dissuaded by a power pyromancer after all, and while his healing skills weren’t perfect, he could at the very least cauterize a wound or ignite a cooking fire with a snap of his fingers.

 

Divine Justinia had agreed that a relief effort would likely be needed and soon. Now she was going over the logistics of such a thing, trying to prioritize speed and efficiency without opening the caravan to attacks before they could reach anyone.

 

Still, all in all, the conversation had gone well, and now all that was left was to wait for the Divine to make her move. She stood, shaking his hand. “This was enlightening, First Enchanter, and I thank you for yo-”

 

She was interrupted by the sound of fighting in the corridor. Alec jumped to his feet, summoning fire to his fingertips and cursing his decision to allow the templars at the gate to take his staff. “Stay behind me, Most Holy. Whomever would dare bring violence to a peace meeting will not hesitate to claim your life as well.”

 

Justinia nodded, standing behind him as they prepared for whatever would step through the door. Neither of them noticed the elf ready to break through the window at the back of the room, caught between his mission and his personal set of morals.

 

*

 

It took Dessah a few seconds of stunned silence to process the scene in front of him. He and Narre had been patrolling the perimeter when he felt a massive amount of magic energy shatter the wards they’d set around the Divine’s rooms. While he may not care much for the Andrastian religion or the way the bulk of these Chantry officials had treated his family, as Shokrakar would say, a job is a job and money is money. She hadn’t thought twice of accepting this bodyguard job and he hadn’t questioned her authority.

 

Now, however, with half his kith dead and bloody on the floor and the rest missing, he’s not so sure this was a good idea. “Narre-” he began.

 

“No,” she snapped, having recovered much faster than him, “You check the Divine’s room. If she needs help, your magic will do more.”

 

He nodded, quickly gathering his wits and running to the Divine’s room as Narre ran in search of the cause of this mess in a different direction. Dessah heard a voice order the door to be barred and ‘the spares’ to be killed. He rammed his shoulder into it, breaking the hold three men had on the door and knocking them down before storming into the room.

 

“What’s going on here!?” he demanded as he took in the sight of a darkspawn… demon… giant…  _ thing _ holding the Divine midair with a spell, as well as four men holding down an elf he’d never seen before and the mage his kith had let in less than an hour ago.

 

The Divine turned to him slowly, breathing out a pained “help me!” as the red giant growled something about not looking favorably on interruptions. The Vashoth struck the blunt end of his staff against the ground, summoning his power in preparation of whatever the “man” in front of him would do.

 

He wasn’t quite prepared for the blast of green magic knocking him off his feet and the world, quite literally, fell out from under him. There was a brief sense of falling, then floating, and then he hit the ground hard and the world went black.

 

*

 

Dessah was woken sharply to the sense of being shaken. He started, throwing out his hands to grasp the unfortunate soul who thought that was a good idea, and felt his arms toss backwards a much smaller body than he’d expected. He opened his eyes to see two men writhing on the ground- one elf growling a string of curses regarding horned giants, partially in Elvhen, and the other doubled over, clutching his hand with gritted teeth.

 

Dessah himself felt a splitting headache coming on as he took in his surroundings. He had assumed the blast from earlier would have knocked him against a wall, maybe leveled the room, but not dumped them into a twisted landscape with magic swirling on all sides. And those were definitely demons clamouring in the distance towards the three men.

 

“Shit,” he spat, jumping to his feet and grabbing the arm of the kneeling man, “I can probably heal that later, but right now we need to go.”

 

“Which is what I was saying before you threw me,” the elf hissed as he stood to help Dessah with the injured mage, “Where are we, anyway? Where do we go to get out of here?”

 

“The Fade,” gasped the human. He leaned heavily against Dessah as they ran the only direction that didn’t immediately have demons on the horizon. His hand looked burned, ruined, and was split across the palm by a glowing fissure of green light. The Vashoth wasn’t sure he could actually heal that after all. Right now, they would have to survive long enough to find out. “The Divine,” the human stumbled, “we need to find Justinia, before anything happens to her.”

 

“Up ahead,” the elf pointed to a woman bathed in yellow light gesturing to them from a rocky overhang that had appeared quite literally from thin air. “Think that’s her?”

 

“Certainly more friendly than what’s behind us,” said Dessah, beginning to hoist the man he was practically carrying onto the cliff above. The woman helped pull the injured man the rest of the way, pleading with them to hurry. The elf and Dessah scrambled up behind them, the four racing towards a shaft of green light that seemed to split the air in front of them. The demons were faster, grabbing Dessah’s leg as he pulled himself onto the rocks. The woman did something beside him and in a flash of light they switched places- her held fast by the demons and him behind the other two men.

 

“Go!” she shouted, pushing them forward. Dessah did not need to be told twice.

 

He grabbed both men in front of him, pulling them through the ripple of energy and doubting he’d ever forget the injured man’s scream of “Divine Justinia!” as he fought to get free. Dessah spared a backward glance towards the glowing woman, who simply smiled as she whispered a prayer. That was the last thing he heard before the world went out from under him again.


	2. The Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tongue heavy with the taste of elfroot and magebane, Alec lifted his left hand from his lap. His fingers were red and swollen, the tips charred black. Cutting across the palm was a diagonal slash of burned flesh and green magic. That couldn’t be right- his magic was orange. The glow from the wound was nauseating, crackling in time with each spike of pain. What had done this to him?

The first thing Alec knew was the pain. Agonizing, bone-chilling pain that started in his palm and ran up his arm in pulses. The second was the sound of someone screaming. Each scream in time with each streak of agony. As more of his senses returned to him and he switched to gasping for breath, he registered that yes, that was definitely his voice.  He pushed himself off the floor during a reprieve- cold stone beneath him, dark, wet, smelling of mold and stale air.

 

Looking around confirmed that Alec was indeed in a cell lit only by a few torches near the door. With him were two men chained much like him- a qunari who looked to be nursing a monster headache, and an elf who seemed completely perplexed at the sight of his own hands. There was a single guard just outside the cell door, arms folded in front of her as she watched him impassively.

 

Tongue heavy with the taste of elfroot and magebane, Alec lifted his left hand from his lap. His fingers were red and swollen, the tips charred black. Cutting across the palm was a diagonal slash of burned flesh and green magic. That couldn’t be right- his magic was orange. The glow from the wound was nauseating, crackling in time with each spike of pain. What had done this to him?

 

The mark flashed suddenly, spitting green sparks at his face as another pulse relieved him of rational thought. He felt himself retch, but nothing came up. If anything about this could be considered a blessing, it was that his stomach had apparently been empty for quite a while. It took several minutes for the pain to subside enough for him to pick himself back off the floor.

 

Thinking back to the cause of all this was a fruitless venture. If the pain didn’t completely half his thought process, the overall confusion he felt was just as effective. He remembered going to meet with the Divine. He remembered walking into her personal meeting room. He remembered waking here with a magic burn on his hand that seemed to want him to suffer. What happened in between remained a mystery to him. The qunari was, at least, vaguely familiar- Alec was fairly certain he’d seen that one with the guard detail hired by the Divine. Only fairly certain, because the guards did not speak unless spoken to. And because outside of noting variances in horn length and type, Alec could barely tell any of them apart.

 

The better question to ask was what had happened in the time between meeting the Divine and now. His eyes flicked to the sudden movement the guard made- cracking open the door to the outside and momentarily blinding him. “Seeker Pentaghast? Sister Leliana?” she called, “The last one is ready.”

 

An impressively intimidating woman strode past the guard, followed by a redhead he thought he recognized. He realized then that he must have been thinking, at least in part, out loud. The Seeker glared at him for a few moments, clearly unimpressed, the scar on her face a bright red stripe across her cheek.

 

Alec swallowed thickly. “What happened?” he repeated what he hoped he’d said out loud, “Where am I? Whe-”

 

“I was hoping you could tell me,” the Seeker interrupted, “Why did you attack the Conclave? Why did you kill the Divine? Everyone who attended, all dead. Except you three.”

 

Alec gasped at that in shock. Him, kill the Divine? He was a faithful Andrastian, who considered the Divine most holy! “I- I didn’t! I swear- by the Maker, my envoy was to meet with her to discuss a peaceful solution for the war. I would neve-”

 

“Then explain the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes,” she demanded, pointing to the qunari, “That one says you were the last person he remembers letting into her rooms. Explain what caused this. What was your purpose in killing hundreds, no, thousands of people. Explain why I should not kill you now.”

 

“I don’t know!” he shouted back as another pulse from his hand hit him. Just before doubling over again, he managed to grit out, “I don’t remember!”

 

“A likely story, convenient not one of you, the only survivors, remembers a thing about what happened.” She picked up his bad arm and shook it. “Explain this,” she spat before dropping it again.

 

“I don’t know,” he pleaded, “All those people are dead- I don’t know why. I don’t know what happened to the Divine. I don’t know what’s wrong with my hand. I don’t know- I don’t-” He broke off his sobs, taking a few shuddering breaths.

 

The Seeker rushed him again. “You’re lying!” she hissed, causing him to fall backwards.

 

The other woman caught her arm. “Cassandra, we need them. All three of them.” She turned to look at Alec more fully, and that’s when he realized where he knew her from. Sister Leliana, friend and confidante to the Hero of Fereldan, who had stopped the Blight from spreading just as he’d become First Enchanter. “Do you remember anything of what happened? How this began?”

 

“I-” Alec took another breath, “I remember handing my staff to the templars at the gate. I remember being searched by more templars on the way in. I remember being escorted to the Divine by her qunari guard. But- Then, nothing, except being here.”

 

Leliana nodded at the qunari. “ _ He _ said something about being chased through the Fade. By demons, and a woman who helped you through. Do you remember any of that?”

 

Alec glanced at the qunari again. He’d raised his head, black horns and silver eyes gleaming under the torches. The women’s words had verified he’d been part of the Divine’s guard, but… Neither the account relayed or the knowledge of this man helped his memory. Slowly, Alec shook his head. Leliana tried very hard not to look disappointed.

 

“You’re like me then,” the elf whispered, causing Alec to startle. He’d almost forgotten there were three prisoners. “Only big guy over there seems to have any idea what’s going on.”

 

There was a breathless chuckle from the qunari. “Hardly,” a pained whisper, “I let you in. I went on patrol. We were in the Fade. You were hurt. There was a woman. And demons. Now we’re here.”

 

He said it with so much practiced surety. Alec realized that he must have been interrogated first, or had repeated the same account several times. Or perhaps both. The qunari hissed in pain, covering his eyes as another burst ran up Alec’s arm. Maybe the screaming hadn’t all been from him.

 

Seeker Cassandra sighed, shaking her head at Leliana who gave her a helpless shrug. “Fine,” the Seeker said, finally, “you need to see this.”

 

Leliana helped Alec to his feet, Cassandra and the guard helping the other two, before all three were unchained. A warning look from the Seeker was all any of them would have needed to understand. The three women escorted the men through the heavy door- each with an arm held bent behind his back.

 

“By Mythal,” the elf breathed, taking in the sight in front of them. The qunari beside him had stiffened, his jaw clenching.

 

It was as if someone had ripped a massive hole in the sky. The same green light from Alec’s hand poured from the opening. Clouds swirled around it, green lightning jumping across its maw as the magic cracked through the air. “They call it the Breach,” the Seeker began, “It appeared after the explosion. There are some who say it is the end of the world.” Alec stared, dumbfounded, as pieces of sky appeared to break off and fall to the ground. “Those are demons. And more fall every minute.”

 

Leliana pulled Cassandra to the side for a hushed conversation. Alec stood between the other two men, all three gaping at the Breach. It cracked with lightning again, sending out a low hum as it flashed. The mage felt the agony spike up his arm again as the qunari grunted and the elf let out a low moan.

 

Cassandra returned to them as Leliana nodded a goodbye, then ran off to the paths ahead. “It seems your mark and the Breach may be connected. It widens with each flash,” she pulled them back onto their feet, “and it is killing you. All of you. If you truly did not do this, then it is in your interest to cooperate.” That certainly got his attention. “We believe it may help us close the Breach. Leliana’s scouts are preparing a way for us to get you there with… limited interruptions.”

 

“No offense intended, but it doesn’t seem like we have much of a choice,” the elf quipped, shaking his head. It was like he was constantly trying to clear his vision. Alec felt dizzy just watching.

 

The qunari nodded his agreement, then turned to Alec. “You’re asking me? I’m rather outvoted either way. I’d like to offer whatever help I can, but-” the human began.

 

“Your hand matches the Breach,” the qunari responded as if it was simple logic, “It makes sense for us two to follow your lead. It’s killing us too. And we’ve been awake longer.”

 

Cassandra’s gaze flickered between them, softening a fraction. “I- thank you. Come, it’s not far. At the end of this, I can promise a trial, no more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by a friend who doesn't know anything about the DA universe except that he thinks Fenris and Zevran are cute. Want to be my beta? Poke me on tumblr- ofelvesandmusings.tumblr.com


	3. The Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure enough, Ailan spotted another series of flickering lights in the distance. An elf, bald, bathed in green light and a dwarf utterly bereft of any glow, fighting more demons with sickening auras pouring out of a crack in the air. It looked as if the world in front of him was a painting, being torn to let various shades of black and green loose as yet another demon stepped out of the hole. A “rift”, indeed. And this was a small version of the hole in the sky.

_ Fenhedis _ , but what a mess this was. A gaping hole in his memory, a gaping hole in the sky, demons everywhere, and to make matters worse- Shit. Everything was too bright, too loud, too colorful. Ailan was definitely seeing things. A wisp of blue smoke floating between the big guy’s horns. The Seeker bathed in gold. The green streak running from the  _ shem _ ’s hand into the orange that encased the rest of him. Even his own hands looked eerily like Nehn’s had when they were children, when her magic was wild and untamed, constantly covered in purple wisps no matter how much he shook them.

 

And every time the sky pulsed, the colors only intensified, searing into the back of his skull. Shit. Shit! Why had Keeper Iossa sent him? Nehn was way better at dealing with magical anomalies. She’d know what to do about a magic rip in the sky that spewed demons every second.

 

Another wave from the Breach flashed in his vision. Ailan recoiled, knocking into the quna- Vashoth, that’s right- who steadied him. Dessah, he’d learned, had woken first. He had been interrogated first. He seemed to remember the most. And had said, after Ailan’s “interview” with the Seeker, that his head felt like it would burst any second. They’d had about an hour to ask each other for details to fill in the gaps before the  _ shem  _ woke up screaming.

 

Ailan wasn’t sure who he’d rather be in this situation. Dessah had seemed the least affected- though from the way he stumbled through each widening of the Breach, perhaps he was just used to fighting through pain. The  _ shem _ ’s hand was absolutely ruined. Whatever the orange glow was, it was being forced to retreat in the wake of the green slowly ticking up his arm. There was a time limit. What happened at the end, he didn’t want to know.

 

The Seeker led them through the mountain path, occasionally pausing to battle demons. Or to help them up after the Breach knocked them over. Frequently there were blasts from the sky that hit the path in front of them, necessitating a moment’s rest so they wouldn’t be caught in it. There were bodies everywhere. Ailan had never seen this much death. Whatever caused this was nothing but evil. Even the Wolf himself had never left such destruction behind him in the old tales. He could only pray to the Creators that his clan was safe.

 

Cassandra opened a gate to a bridge, revealing a small resting area with supplies and soldiers at each end. Ailan breathed a sigh of relief, just in time for the sky to boom again. The three men cringed, Cassandra shouted something, and then the world went on its head for several seconds. Landing hard against stone, Ailan was decidedly no longer on the bridge.

 

He was below it- rather, below where it used to be. A large piece of debris had decimated the bridge, killing most under the rubble and dumping the rest onto the frozen riverbank. Cassandra and another survivor were already up, battling demons away from those dazed by the fall. Dessah was on his feet as well, having grabbed a dropped staff. He was freezing enemies in their path to make them better targets for the warriors. Experienced mercenary indeed. The  _ shem _ was in similar condition to Ailan, still getting his feet back under him.

 

One of the demons- hideous, sluglike creatures with disgusting blackish green auras- broke free of the fighting and circled around to the injured. Dessah shouted a warning, but he and Cassandra were too far and too involved to help. Ailan quickly located a bow and a handful of arrows before settling into a fighting stance. Demons had  _ definitely _ gotten uglier. Either that, or he had never noticed how  _ wrong _ they were until his vision changed.

 

He loosed three arrows in quick succession. The first two hit their mark- the center- with soft thuds, stunning the creature. The third, however, burst into flames as it hit, quickly reducing the demon to a pile of ash after a horrifying shriek. Ailan started as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. The  _ shem _ , out of breath and leaning heavily on his staff, gave him a small smile. Ah, right- he was a mage at the Conclave, to discuss the war with the Divine. They nodded at each other and ran to help the Vashoth and Cassandra finish off the rest.

 

Fighting always made time go faster for Ailan and this was no different. In no time, the mages created an almost hypnotic light show between them. The Seeker was a streak of gold against the crowd of sickening auras. The elf had growled his frustration at the lack of replenished ammo, eventually ditching the bow for a set of daggers. It would put him closer to danger, but the mages wove a barrier around him, blue raising up on occasion when a demon swiped towards him.

 

The fighting stopped suddenly, the last demon disintegrating on the end of Cassandra’s sword. She spun, her sword pointed at him. “Drop your weapons.  _ Now _ .”

 

“I helped, didn’t I?” Ailan shot back.

 

The  _ shem _ behind him had put his staff at his feet, standing slowly with his hands in the air. “He  _ is _ right, Seeker. You could use whatever assistance we can offer.”

 

Dessah leaned on his staff behind them. “I don’t believe any of us actually need a weapon to be dangerous.”

 

Cassandra glared at him. “That is supposed to comfort me?”

 

The  _ shem _ jumped to his defense. “What I’m sure the qunari means to say-”

 

“Vashoth. And my name is Dessah.”

 

He nodded. “Right, what I’m sure  _ Dessah _ means to say is that we are two mages and a rogue. If we wanted to attack you, we would have done it by now, with or without staves and knives. Or, you could let us help you fight as long as we are able.”

 

A muscle jumped in the Seeker’s cheek, making the scar on her face move oddly. Then she sighed. “You are right. I cannot protect you. And I cannot expect you to make yourselves defenseless. I should remember you agreed to come willingly.” She gestured to the three of them, then began to walk away, clearly decided to lead them there with weapons in tow. “Leliana and her scouts must have reached the forward camp by now. Come, we need to test the mark on something smaller than the Breach first.”

 

Ailan shrugged at the taller men, putting the knives he found into his belt. A little crude- nothing like the weapons belt he knew he’d brought on his mission- but effective enough for the time being. He’d need them if they were going to keep running into these monstrosities. Roguish tricks or not, he knew he wouldn’t last long without at least some form of protection, especially if he got separated from the group again.

 

Their progress was far slower, now. The  _ shem _ ’s arm was green up to his elbow, and he seemed to need the staff to walk more than to fire spells at the creatures that fell at their feet. Cassandra was explaining the situation in bursts- the three of them had fallen out of a “rift”- a smaller version of the Breach- together after the explosion that broke the sky. They’d been unconscious for several days while others worked endlessly to keep them alive long enough at least for questioning. The soldiers on the destroyed bridge were meant to accompany them- but those that had survived the fall had been too injured to fight. The rest were ahead, battling near another rift- the Seeker eventually calling out that she could hear the fighting over the screams of the demons around them.

 

Sure enough, Ailan spotted another series of flickering lights in the distance. An elf, bald, bathed in green light and a dwarf utterly bereft of any glow, fighting more demons with sickening auras pouring out of a crack in the air. It looked as if the world in front of him was a painting, being torn to let various shades of black and green loose as yet another demon stepped out of the hole. A “rift”, indeed. And this was a  _ small _ version of the hole in the sky.

 

All four of them jumped into the fray to help the two men. Between the now  _ three _ mages, the Seeker, the dwarf with his crossbow, and Ailan’s knives, they made short work of what demons were present during what appeared to be a reprieve from the waves coming out of the rift itself. Then, as they all paused to catch their breaths, the bald elf shouted for the  _ shem _ ’s attention.

 

“Quickly, before more come through!” he yelled as he grabbed the  _ shem _ ’s ruined hand, pointing it directly at the rift.

 

The  _ shem _ screamed as a stream of light shot from the mark in his hand into the rift, causing it to hum and glow brighter and brighter until it- quite literally- popped. With a final  _ bang _ , the rift disappeared from existence almost as if it never existed. Ailan could see a faint green line where it once was, almost like a scar left over from a deep wound. The  _ shem _ fell to his knees then, clutching his hand in renewed pain.

 

“What- did you  _ do _ ?” he managed to grit out.

 

“ _ I _ did nothing, the credit is yours,” the bald elf said simply as he knelt beside the  _ shem _ .

 

“You mean, this thing?” the  _ shem _ gasped when the elf reached for his hand again.

 

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also made that Mark upon your hand. I theorized the Mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake- and it seems I was correct.”

 

“Meaning-” Dessah started.

 

“It could also close the Breach itself,” the Seeker finished.

 

“Possibly,” the bald elf confirmed, “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

 

“Good to know,” cut in the dwarf, adjusting his gloves, “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” He approached them then, having hung back from the group while the rift was being closed. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally… unwelcome tagalong.” Ailan did not miss the wink he threw at Cassandra, or the noise she made in response.

 

“Dessah Adaar, of the Valos-Kas. Possibly all that’s left of it.”

 

Varric seemed to eye the big guy up and down, then- “Tal-Vashoth or-?”

 

“Just Vashoth. Never was part of the Qun. Not used to people knowing the difference, to be honest.” The two spent a few more seconds sizing each other up, then broke the tension as they nodded at each other.

 

The  _ shem _ , having been helped back onto his feet by the bald elf who was  _ still _ poking and prodding at his bad hand, cleared his throat to dispel the moment. “Alexander Trevelyan, formerly the First Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle before the rebellion. It- might be easier to call me Alec.”

 

The two former prisoners turned to look at Ailan, who sighed inwardly. “Ailan, of Clan Lavellan,” he supplied, hoping that would be enough. Keeper Iossa had assigned him a  _ secret _ mission- it would be best if he revealed as little about himself as possible. Hoping to change the subject, he pointed to Varric’s weapon. “That’s… a nice crossbow you’ve got there.”

 

“Ah, isn’t she?” the dwarf beamed, “Bianca and I have been through a lot together.”

 

“You named your crossbow ‘Bianca’?” Dessah hadn’t bothered hiding his surprise.

 

“Of course! And she’ll be great company in the valley.”

 

“Absolutely not,” Cassandra interrupted. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-”

 

“Have you  _ been _ in the valley lately, Seeker?” Varric argued, “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

 

The Seeker threw up her hands and shook her head, making another disgusted noise at him. As she walked away, the bald elf stepped forward, being the last unnamed person standing there. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you all still live.”

 

“He means- ‘I kept that Mark from killing you while you slept’,” Varric supplied.

“Then I owe you my thanks.”

“You can do that?”

“I guess I’m really not much use if I’m dead.”

Alec, Ailan, and Dessah said at the same time, then froze, staring at each other, until they heard a quiet chuckle from Solas.

“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing any of you three in the process,” he said to them, then turned to the Seeker, “Cassandra, you should know, the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. While you do have two mages among your prisoners, I find it hard to believe that  _ any _ mage could have such power. Even if they combined their strengths, they would not be capable of this.”

“Understood,” she said simply. Interesting, to Ailan, that a woman that was willing to be so brutal during their ‘interviews’ would defer to what she would consider an apostate mage, considering her status as an enforcer of  _ shem _ religious will. Especially considering at his age, Solas should already bear the Vallaslin if he were Dalish, yet his clothes and manner suggested he was not a city elf either. He didn’t get much of a chance to dwell on it, however, when Cassandra’s voice telling them to press on to the forward camp interrupted his train of thought.

Varric had hung back with him- the others already beginning to move on. “Well… Bianca’s excited!”

**Author's Note:**

> It begins!
> 
> I've had this kicking around since May 2017- truth be told it's what I made the AO3 account for- and then life caught up with me and I got sidetracked by another fandom whoops. Mind the tags, even if things aren't glaringly obvious right away, and I'll be adding more tags as I decide where certain things will go in the story. Rating subject to change depending on if I feel like putting whatever sex scenes here or having them be regulated to one-off addons separate from the main fic.
> 
> Beta'd by a friend who doesn't know anything about the DA universe except that he thinks Fenris and Zevran are cute. Want to be my beta? Poke me on tumblr- ofelvesandmusings.tumblr.com


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